


Kinky Keith-tober

by rae_aaah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Frotting, Fucking Machines, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mirror Sex, Multi, Other, Oviposition, Praise Kink, Rimming, Spanking, Tentacles, Voyeurism, Wax Play, distention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-11-16 15:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20851754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rae_aaah/pseuds/rae_aaah
Summary: Where Keith fucks and gets fucks his whole birthday month. This is a multi-ship series. Please heed the pairings in the chapter titles. Tags will be added as we go.





	1. Wax Play, Spanking, Ass Worship - Lance & Allura

Keith's skin tingles at the cold air in the room suddenly heating at his back. It's Lance, covering the backs of Keith’s thighs to his shoulders, his deft riflemen hands running all over Keith’s skin in soft strokes. They run up his up-stretched arms, circle around his wrists, squeeze there once before pulling away.

Keith locks eyes with Allura’s, standing across the room, and she smirks. She unties the rope from its hook in the wall, letting his arms down just enough to be able to crook them at the elbow. She reties the rest of the length, a simple double knot, and she comes to stand next to Lance. There’s the wet sound of them kissing, a giggle from them both positioned behind him. And then, heat again. 

"Bend over a little," Lance tells him, running his fingers down his naked back.

Keith obliges and he widens his stance, bends at the waist. The cool air brushes against his spread thighs and his skin puckers, rises in small little bumps all over his back and ass and chest. Keith breathes steadily, focusing all of his attention on their movements behind him.

"Ready?" Lance asks as he comes up next to Keith's side.

Keith unclenches his tensed jaw. "I've been ready. Waiting on you," he grits out.

Lance clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Allura's hand comes down hard on his ass, the sharp sting of it forcing a few tears to spring to the corners of his eyes. Keith bites down on his lip, pressing his face into his bicep, but long fingers comb through his hair once, twice, pulls his face back out of its hiding spot.

"Come on, Keith, we want to hear you," Lance murmurs in his ear, and Allura slaps at him again, this time on the opposite cheek in punishment.

"Fuck you guys, just get on-"

Another slap. Then, her small hand grabs at the globe of one ass cheek, her manicured nails digging into his skin.

"Watch your dirty mouth," she says, almost in a sing-song tone. Keith grits his teeth, his jaw a hard tense line, and he breathes a slow in and out. “Just make those pretty sounds for us. That’s all we ask for,” she tells him. Strokes over the heated skin of his slapped cheeks. Soft lips at the base of his spine, a light, lingering kiss given in acceptance as he moans through his open mouth.

"Your skin is so pretty like this, Keith," she sighs out. Her hands run over the furiously heated skin, her mouth trailing lower. "So red," a soft brush of her breath against his cleft. "Isn't he lovely, Lance?"

Lance chuckles along with her, one of his hands covering hers over Keith's ass. He pulls the cheek aside, his thumb touching over his hole underneath a thin strip of cloth and Keith clenches his muscles as Lance starts to rub his thumb up and down..

"Yeah," he murmurs. "So cute," and his hand lifts, comes down in another sharp slap, sharper than Allura's, with all of his weight bearing down with it.

Keith gasps and throws his head back. "Fuck!" 

Allura's nails dig into the meat of his waist. “Just like that, Keith,” she says and she kneads his cheeks in her hand. She leans over and rests her cheek against the dip in the spine, kissing him there, kissing him lower, moving down with intent. She pecks her lips around the elastic band of the thong they made him wear. She grips at him hard and her fingers dig in deep. She straightens, taking her heat with her and presses up behind him. 

“How many should we give him?” she asks, hands all over his lower back, the rounded blunt of her nail scratching over him. 

Lance hums. “Ten?”

Allura walks her fingers up his back. “Probably fifteen to be sure,” she counters.

Lance laughs and there’s a heavy weight of his hand over Allura’s as he forces her fingers flat. He drags their hands over Keith’s flank and thighs, large circles, getting him ready. “Might as well go for twenty,” he tells her. 

Keith’s breath hitches. 

“You like that?” Lance asks, and Keith’s cock jumps. “Twenty it is then.”

Lance steps back, makes room for Allura. “Count for us, Keith,” she says right before her hand comes down in a sharp smack. Keith jerks forward in his bonds, center of gravity swinging wildly around his torso as he tries to get balance again. 

“O-one,” he grunts. 

And so it continues, _two three four_, all of them landing in quick succession against his skin. After the seventh, Allura cups both of his cheeks in her hands and the heat radiating off of him onto her back into him has his mind going foggy. 

“T-tired, Princess?” he manages, already bracing himself. 

Allura growls and Keith gets _eight nine t-t-ten eleven!_ all in a row without a chance for breath.

Keith hangs his head, hair sticking to his forehead in clumps from the sweat streaming down his face. He pants hard, his ass on fire, calves straining and they’re only a little over halfway through. There’s still-

“Hey, no fair,” Lance grumbles, petting at Keith’s back and shoulders. His hands smooth over the tacky skin of his ass, touch in small circles with his nails and it’s almost too much.

“I’ll let you do the big one,” Allura responds, her hands joining Lance’s on his lower half. She snaps the elastic of the thong and Keith hisses.

“You’ll ‘let me’,” and Keith can even hear the air quotes in Lance’s voice. His hand rests fully against him now and Keith whines. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s finish this,” and Lance pulls his hand back and strikes him hard. 

Keith rises up onto the balls of his feet, but Lance’s hand holds him at the waist, keeps him somewhat in place. He thought his skin was burning _ before- _

Lance strikes with force, heavy and full and Keith can feel that strike all the way into his gut. His cock throbs, the tip peeking out from the top of the band. Allura’s finger swirls around the head in a tease. 

They’re at count 18? 19? god, he can’t even think straight- when Lance leans over. “How are you doing? Can you keep going?” and Lance waits until he’s nodding. “Use your words,” he murmurs. “We need to hear it.”

“Lance- ‘Lura, mm, yeah,” he clears his throat. “Yes,” he manages.

Lance’s arms wrap around his waist, hugging him. “You did so well, Keith,” he murmurs as he nuzzles the nape of his sweaty neck, kisses the salt away with his lips and tongue. “So good for us.”

Allura is standing in front of him, a gentle smile on her face. She kisses him softly, angling her head and taking all the pent up frustration Keith has into her mouth. She strokes down his sides, the pads of her fingers skipping over his ribs. Her hands guide his elbows up onto her shoulders. “Are you ready, lover?” she asks, pushing his bangs back. “Tell us if it’s too much.”

Keith nods and rests his forehead onto her cheek. “Yes, please, I want it.”

She giggles. “Look at how his tone’s changed,” and her arm is moving, uncurling from around his back. She receives something and Keith tenses. “Easy now,” is the last thing she says before a splash of hot wax drips onto his back.

Keith gasps, jerks in the circle of her arms, but Lance is still behind him, holding him. Grounding him. 

The candle gets switched out, then a drip, high on his shoulder blade. Another candle, this time the heat falling onto his flank. Another candle, another splash. Everytime the muted burn lands somewhere different. After too many too few Allura pauses in her ministrations, brushes back Keith’s hair from his face.

“Still with us, lover?” she asks as her strange colored eyes bore into his own. 

He blinks, rolls his eyes in his sockets as he tries to focus on her. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Feels good,” he says. He backs up into Lance, rubs against his hard cock still in his jeans. “Please,” he begs. 

Allura kisses him again, turns his face to the side. “Look, now,” and she’s directing his gaze to the short table they’ve set up next to them. There’s a few more candles lit, several smaller ones and one large enough that’s been burning longer than the rest. The melted wax is almost the length of his index finger and Keith groans low in his throat at the thought. Lance leans over and blows out the flames and the acrid smell of smoke filters in through the room.

“We’re going to finish out this set, Keith,” Allura tells him, petting back his hair, voice soothing and firm. “Then, we’re going to give you want you want,” she says and Keith watches as Lance taps his finger lightly onto the rapidly cooling wax of the big candle. The tip of his index finger comes away covered with translucent cap.

Keith nods, buries his head into the crook of his shoulder. “Please,” he murmurs into her skin. 

Allura’s hands move down his sides, catching at the dried wax drips already there. She covers the wax with her hand, pressing her body heat into it, and Keith grunts, jerks his hips. Her hands come around to his front, tweaks at his nipples. They touch at his clenching abdominal muscles, tracing the cut of them. She hums appreciatively when she finds the peaking tip of his cock. Both of her hands are invested in the task, gripping and squeezing and cupping. Keith grunts, sways on his feet. Whines as she starts stroking him in earnest. 

The second round of wax mirrors Allura’s, drips on his shoulders and ribs. Down the furrow of his spine. Lance grips at his hip to hold onto him, the skin dialed down to a muted heat. 

Lance lets go of his hip and a sharp slap jerks him back to the immediate present and he gasps, almost knocking Allura full in the face with his thrashing. 

“Easy,” she murmurs, still holding him by his cock. She pumps once, twice, cradles the tight hang of his sac. 

Lance drips wax right at where his hand struck and Keith keens. 

Another slap to his other cheek, Keith’s voice falling from his lips in a prayer- 

The wax falling like absolution onto his burning skin, heating him right down to his center-

“Lance! Please- mmhn!” and he’s pulling at his restraints, his hands going numb with how tight he’s pulling at the ropes. “‘Lura, I need-”

She shushes him with her low voice, holds his head up, cradles his face between her warm hands. She wipes the tears off of his cheeks. “We know what you need,” and she’s closing the gap, kissing his face, the corner of his mouth. She dips lower and licks up the column of his throat, the jutting bones of his clavicle. She sinks to her knees, ever graceful, and her fingers curl into the band at the cut of his hips to pull his thong down down down.

Her hot mouth kisses at the soft skin of his highs, tongue darting out to lick at the head of his swollen cock. 

Lance drips more wax onto his skin, onto the hot burning surface. Keith's voice rips from his throat as it lands onto the slow rise of his lower back. 

“One more, sweetheart,” Lance murmurs, placing a soft kiss to the cutting blade of his shoulder. 

Allura takes him all the way into her mouth, wiggling her tongue against the shaft. She comes away and kisses down his length, nuzzles at his sac, sucks a ball into her mouth. Her hand comes up to wrap around the base, slowly starts to stroke.

Lance’s heat moves away from his back and he moves over to the hook, undoes Allura’s simple double knot, and pulls Keith taut, tying it back when he’s finished.

Keith’s blood pounds in his veins.

Allura kisses at the tip one last time before rising, the sweet smell of her pushing into Keith’s nose with the motion. She stands to the side, still holding onto his cock. “Count back from five, lover,” she tells him and Keith nods. 

“F-five,” a gentle squeeze to his cock, “Four,” a kiss to the forced stretch of his shoulder. “Thre-!”

And Lance is throwing so much liquid heat onto his lower back and spanked red ass cheeks that his hips jerk in shock, some wax falling onto his thighs, running into his crease-

And he’s coming, hard bursts of his orgasm from the deep recesses of his gut. Allura pulls him through it with her small soft hand, confidently twisting under the crown on the upstroke as she brings him off. The wax runs across his skin in a heavy deluge and settles like a oil slick across his cleft. It traps the heat of his spankings, making his pores prickle and sting. 

Keith’s insides are singing. 

Lance’s hand comes up and cradles his softening cock, fingers brushing against Allura’s as they hold him. She moves away from the two of them and Lance shifts around to stand in front of him. Allura unties the knot at the hook in the wall, and eases Keith’s arms down as Lance takes his weight as Keith droops. Allura comes back and undoes the ropes around his wrists. She massages the joints, urging his blood back into circulation for his hands.

Lance helps Keith onto the bed, carefully laying him out onto his stomach. He brushes back his hair from his face, kisses at whatever skin is available. “You did good, Keith,” he tells him, hands already trailing down his back. 

He starts peeling the wax from his skin, flicking it into a small bin for rubbish that Allura had procured. Her hands follow Lance’s with a cool gel and Keith’s lashes start to flutter closed under their attentive care. When he’s mostly clean, they throw a blanket over his back, hands petting him over the thin sheet. They’re tucked up against his sides, pressing their kisses onto his face and neck and arms, brushing back his hair. 

Keith smiles sleepily at the two of them, wrapped up in their embrace.


	2. Voyeurism, Rimming - Lance & Lotor

Keith sits in a high winged chair, watching, just watching, as Lance slowly eats out the Prince of the Galra Empire. The sight of them is a such a mysterious and beautiful sight with their cool colored skin and lithe limbs. Lotor moves like he was born for this, to be subservient, on his knees (so to speak) and moaning, and Keith knows that the things that Lance does aren’t things one easily ignores nor escapes. 

From his spot at the corner of the room, Keith can see the way Lotor’s hanging cock jumps, a short, clear line of pre-come sliding from the tip. Lance holds him along the shaft, fingers playing with the head. He must feel the slick stickiness there because the next thing Lance does is lick right under the crown, tongue cupping under the slit for a moment, before laving a wide stripe back up to his hole.

Keith’s pulse hums through his veins, simmering, just under the surface. He would trade many things away to be where Lotor is, but he was told by Lance just to watch, so that’s what he does.

The heavy bass of his blood floods through his cock trapped in his jeans, circulates around, and carries itself off to other parts of his body- the pointed peaks of his nipples, the raised hair on his neck and arms, the small indentation on the inside of his lip because he’s been biting down so hard. Everything throbs and Keith’s mouth is full of saliva. He swallows it down, has to swallow twice there’s so much, and he devours the sight of Lotor dragging his forehead across the mattress, moon-bright hair trailing across the sheets with the motion. 

Keith wants to go over there to be within their circle of warmth, to touch them gently, be the extra hands to hold back hair, or touch at shivering skin. 

But Lance had said to watch.

So that’s what he does.

Lance shifts, the rest of his face appearing from over the rise in Lotor’s back. He kisses at the dip in the man’s spine, kisses around his waist. Lotor pushes up from the mattress on his hands, the long fall of his hair shimmering softly in the low light of the room. He turns his face to meet Lance in the middle of a kiss. 

Keith swallows one more time. 

Lance drapes himself across Lotor’s back, his hand coming up and sweeping up that fall of hair. He gently gathers it into a ponytail and slowly starts rotating his wrist, wrapping wrapping wrapping it up, slowly winding all those strands around his fist, and Lotor has no choice but rise up further until he’s kneeling on the bed.

His cock stands up, straight as an arrow, and Keith’s fingers twitch on the arm of the chair, wanting to touch. 

But Lance said to watch.

So he sits there, keyed up, and watches. 

Lance angles Lotor’s head around, bites at his mouth, at his jaw, a pretty pink flush spreading from Lotor’s cheeks down his neck and chest. Lance’s slender hand comes around and wraps around Lotor’s cock, stroking it, and Keith’s throbs against the seam of his jeans sympathetically. He rubs at the tip a few times before his hand rings around the base, holds there for a moment, before dipping lower. His fingers crook and Keith knows that they’re sliding into his slit. 

His own throbs in want as well.

Keith swallows for a fourth time. 

“So wet,” Lance murmurs, the first thing he’s said since they started. “Maybe we can have Keith eat you out here while I fuck you, hmm?” and no amount of swallowing helps the absolute flood of saliva on his tongue. Keith lifts an arm, presses the back of his hand to his mouth, clamps his teeth on a knuckle to try and distract himself. 

Lance clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “It’d be a waste if we didn’t use all your holes, your highness,” Lance teases, hand ducking in at a sharper angle and Lotor cries out, jerking his hips against Lance’s wrist. “Maybe we can get one more person in here and have them use your mouth, hmm? A service to the Empire, indeed,” he says, chuckles when Lotor wraps his fingers around Lance’s wrist.

Lance’s hand pulls away, fingertips coated shiny with slick and he reaches around to where Keith can’t see. Lotor’s shoulders immediately tense but his waist relaxes and his cock jumps. “Please, Paladin,” he moans, spreading his knees wider against the sheets with a soft sound. 

Lance hums, his smile playful and wicked against Lotor’s throat. “As you wish, Highness,” he says as he bites down, and, with how Lotor shouts, slides his fingers inside. “I’m going to put it in,” he growls. Lotor nods the best he can while Lance has his grip in his hair. 

Keith blinks, coming back to his body as Lance looks up then, eyes locking with his. 

Everyone sits on the precipice, on bated breath, and Keith realizes that Lance is waiting for him, asking for his permission and fuck- Keith nods, a quick jerk of his head, and the sound of Lotor moaning fills the space between them as Lance fucks into him with one swift thrust with his hips. 

Lance lets go of Lotor’s hair to instead grab at his hips, and the other man collapses onto the mattress, the easy slope of his back glistening with a light sheen of perspiration. He cries out as Lance pulls back and slides back home, an easy in and out, and Lance is looking down at him with a pleased smile on his face. 

Keith has never been in this unique position before, always participating when they play, but now, he’s so hungry for them. His want churns low in his belly, seeking an out through his dick, and he shifts in the chair, stopping himself at the last moment.

Because Lance had said to watch.

So he sits here, watching. Wanting. Longing. 

His nails drag down the arms of the chair, ruining the upholstery as Lotor sobs, Lance pausing for a moment, buried deep. All three of them know that Lance’s has found the golden angle- just the right amount of pressure that’ll send Lotor over the edge, and all three of them want it. 

“Ask him,” Lance growls, hand coming down to fist once more in Lotor’s hair. “Ask him to let you come,” and he shoves into Lotor, presses flush to his back. 

“Keith,” Lotor gasps, voice wet and desperate. “Please, let me come,” and his golden eyes swivel in Keith’s direction. They’re bright, pleading. 

Keith gives another quick nod, and Lance smirks, rises up again. 

He watches as Lotor’s fingers rip into the mattress, his claws extending. Watches as his face crumples down the center in bliss as Lance really gives it to him, long smooth fast fucks inside. Watches as Lance licks at his upper lip of sweat. Watches as the muscles in his arms and chest and abdominals flex and cord with his thrusting.

He watches as Lotor seizes up, as he goes stiff, as Lance’s grip turns knuckle-white and brutal.

Watches as they both come, one after the other, like falling dominoes, tipping each other over. 

Lance gently pulls out of Lotor, eases him down onto the bed. They’re both breathing hard, coming down, and Keith is so hard in his jeans that it’s driving him crazy. Lance’s eyes bore into his, chest rising and falling rhythmically. 

Keith shifts again and Lance’s eyes snap down to his crotch. He starts stroking himself, bringing himself back to full hardness before cocking his head in a motion for Keith to come over. Keith stands on jellied legs, manages to hobble over to the bed. When his knees hit the edge, he stumbles a little, falls onto his hands and knees. Lance opens his arms and Keith crawls over his outstretched legs. His wide palms rest on his hips. 

“Just watch, sweetheart,” he murmurs and Keith’s skin jumps when Lotor’s hands come around and start undoing his belt and button and fly. He didn’t even hear him move. 

Two sets of hands on him, smooth warm skin. Lance raises his hand, extends his index finger in front of Keith’s face. He waits until Keith focuses on it and he lowers that finger, touches it to the tip of Keith’s cock, now exposed to the cool air. 

“Just watch,” he repeats, long fingers wrapping around him. Lotor’s hand joins his, but they’re light, fluttering things, touching along his shaft, the tight round of his sac, the quivering skin of his inner thighs. 

Lance had told him to watch.

And that’s what he does. 

Watches as they touch him, tease him. Bring him to the edge and then stop. His cock turns such an angry, swollen red. But he doesn’t do anything, and waits. Watches. 

Lance starts to touch him earnest, lining up their cocks, a long line of heat against him. Keith groans when Lotor’s hands rub in circles across his stomach, over his chest and throat. He angles Keith’s head in his direction, pressing their lips together, sliding his tongue inside. Lance twists his wrist, swirls his thumb over the slit and Lotor presses against him, hard again.

Keith moans into his mouth, his orgasm swelling up in him. 

“That’s it,” Lance murmurs. “Let it go, we’ve got you. Look here, Keith,” Lance says, and when Keith pulls away to look down, he’s coming, presented with the pretty picture of Lance and his blue eyes, cock a rosy red. Keith shoots all over Lance’s chest, painting his throat and collar bones. 

It slides down his skin obscenely.

Keith gasps for breath, skin getting petted as he comes down. Lotor lifts his shirt over his head as Lance wrestles his legs out from the confines of his jeans. He wipes himself down with Keith’s shirt and he makes a face at him. They sandwich him between their bodies, constantly touching him. Keith looks at their hands on him, lulled to sleep against their warmth. 


	3. Tentacles, Distention - OC featuring Lance

The touch starts as a slow slide up his thigh. It’s wet and sticky, and Keith doesn’t really know what to do with those two sensations except thrash a little as that hot slow slide works its way up his leg. He pants through his open mouth and grunts when that touch starts to squirm around his balls, slicks up his taint. He holds his breath as it circles around his hole. 

Lance had told him with a nudge and a wink of this… creature on the outskirts of town that would... be interesting and he thought that Keith should check it out. He’d given him a sly smile, laughed and walked off, throwing an arm around Hunk and asking him about dinner. 

So Keith had become curious. They only had two more days on this planet and doing something that Lance suggested with that sort of look had set his blood simmering. He had taken the surprisingly well-trodden path up the side of the easy sloping mountain and came upon a small pond with a sign posted into the ground. It was bizzaringly cartoonish with a small octopus? looking thing waving its (very many) tentacles.

Keith is so invested in looking at the sign that he completely misses when the said creature shuffles out of a house set back from the path. It stands at the bottom of a short flight of stairs that leads up to a wooden porch and the open front door, a set of hands clasped loosely in front of it.

It gives a short bow, gestures for Keith to enter its home.

Keith bites his lip and walks up to the creature. It tilts its head, and with the same gesturing hand, holds it out in front of Keith. Keith, after being trained by Allura at diplomacy, automatically shakes its hand. 

The hand is sticky, slick. Warm.

Much like how the tentacle it’s using now slowly touches around his pucker. There’s another jelly like appendage slithering up his cock in rhythmic pulses. A flattened tip swirls around the head, forms into a point and gently eases into the slit for a moment before retreating. Keith’s skin breaks out into little bumps and he jerks his hips. The thing has a strong grip on his torso, and Keith tries to buck but is held firm.

One more (how many does this thing have?) eases it way up his spine, curling against the back of his neck, around throat, slipping into his wide open, gasping mouth. It pushes in deep, almost cutting off his air, but pulls back in just enough time for Keith to take in a heaving breath. His vision bursts with black spots as his mouth gets fucked again and he grunts around the intrusion, mind going foggy. 

The pulsing curl of the length around his cock writhes in and out a pattern that he can’t quite follow. One moment he’s right at the edge of coming, the next he’s being pulled back and teased relentlessly. 

The thing in his mouth slides out and Keith gasps, drinking in all the air he can, but it doesn’t come back, instead sliding against his cheek, caressing him. 

There’s a knock on the door and Keith’s muscles tense. He struggles for a moment but is held tightly and the crack widens, letting in a cool breeze and Lance’s figure in the door. 

He smirks at Keith, clicks this tongue against his teeth playfully. “Poor thing, all strung out. It likes you. All I got was a quick fuck, but you’re getting played with,” he says as he comes up to Keith. 

The tentacle sliding over his cheek cups under his chin to tip him into an angle, as Lance leans in, presses his mouth to his. “Look at you,” he hums, pecking kisses to Keith’s face. “How lucky.”

Keith is about to protest but the squirming appendage seeks back into his mouth to shut him up. Lance chuckles, pets back his sweaty bangs. “Oh, I think the big one is coming,” he sing songs, hands brushing against Keith’s chest and nipples, down to his quivering belly. Lance steps forward, lining up their chests as his arms come around and his greedy hands grip at his ass. He smacks the skin playfully before taking a handful, before spreading Keith’s cheeks wide.

“Mmn!” he grunts, shifting against Lance but to no avail. 

Lance’s finger traces around his hole, dips in a little, then a lot, retreats. Holds him back open with both hands and one, slick digit from the creature behind him slides inside, widening as it goes. 

Keith’s cock throbs. 

It’s wide but so soft, not a hard pressure at all. But it’s persistent and he’s sweating fat drops of salt down his temple as it slowly presses inside. 

“That’s it, god, Keith, your hole,” Lance breathes against his shoulder. One of his hands lets go and comes around to the front, his hand gently stroking him back to hardness. “That’s it, you’re doing so well,” and slowly, surely, Keith swells in his hand. 

The thing in his mouth slides free and Keith groans, ruts his nose against Lance’s cheek. “Lance, please, oh- Lance-” he begs, looking for his mouth. 

Lance chuckles, the bastard, runs the tip of his nose along Keith’s jaw. Kisses him lightly, then with more vigor, sliding his tongue inside. “You taste sweet,” he murmurs against Keith’s lips. 

Before Keith can wonder why, the cock in him is pulling out slowly, fully, then with one long thrust, presses back inside. He whines, clenches his hands into fists. 

“Oh, baby- look,” and Lance has his gaze lowered.

Keith dips his head, has to close his eyes against the sight. 

The lower part of his stomach is rounded out, all the way from his pelvis to his navel, and Keith moans. 

“Open your eyes, Keith, watch, now,” Lance says as he presses the palm of his hand over the bulge under his skin. The cock moves in and out of him and with each pass, Keith’s body accommodates, and Lance, hand pressing so insistently against that bulge lets him feel it right under the skin.

He grits his teeth, hands clenched into fists. It burns, but the heavy hot pressure still feels so good and it surprises him when he whimpers, Lance making soothing sounds against his skin. “Easy, now, I got you,” and Keith’s cock is throbbing with his orgasm, twitching feebly in Lance’s hold. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. 

There’s one, last thrust and a sudden flood of come fills him up inside and he thought he was full  _ before- _

“Lance!” he cries, burying his face against his throat.

“I know, easy, Samurai,” he murmurs, nuzzling at Keith’s temple. Keith cries for a kiss and Lance seals their mouths together. That hefty weight slides from him and Keith’s body re-calibrates, the come spilling from him in a rush. Lance pushes back his hair, kisses his face, runs his fingers all over his skin. 

His hands stray over his spent cock. He hums curiously. “You think you could go for another round?” he asks, fingers curling around the shaft and squeezing a little.

“Lan- mm,” he grunts as Lance’s other hand plays around his stretched hole. Three fingers slide inside easily and stay plugged there. 

“I maybe, want to, sort of, try having that guy fuck us at the same time?” he says in a rush. 

Keith’s cock twitches interestingly and, by the feeling of another twitch of tendrils behind them, their new friend is interested, too.


	4. Bondage, Frotting - Lance & Shiro

Keith holds his breath as Shiro secures the cuffs behind his back. It forces him to sit up, sit straight, and he has to spread his knees on the bed to balance himself. His cock stands at half-mast in the cool air of the room and his skin shivers when Shiro moves from behind him to stand next to Lance.

Lance rests his arm over Shiro’s wide shoulder, and Keith can see the way his legs tense to take Lance’s lithe weight. Lance tilts his head to lean it against his propped up arm and smiles. “He looks good like that,” Lance muses, talking like Keith isn’t right there, at their feet, looking up at them from his kneeling position on the floor. 

All Shiro does is hum in agreement before reaching out and sliding his fingers through Keith’s hair. 

Keith tilts his head back, closes his eyes. Soaks up their heat and their presence. Gets calmed by it. Shiro fists his hand and the roots of Keith’s hair gets pulled by it, forces his eyes open. “Ready?”

Keith nods, his mouth gone suddenly dry.

“We need to hear you say it,” Lance says, coming close with a bottle in his hands.

Keith swallows, the rough slide of whatever spit he musters tugs down his throat. “Yes, please,” he says.

With approving eyes, Shiro lets go of his hair. Keith keeps his head tipped back, throat long and exposed for them and Lance smirks as he upends half the contents in the container onto his chest. The lube is cold, viscus, and Lance pours it in a line from shoulder to shoulder and it oozes down his chest in a slow crawl. He hands the container off to Shiro before getting to his knees in front of Keith and starts petting at his chest, swirling the lube around. Lance’s long fingers, calloused palms, heated hands, sweep over his skin, over the peaked points of his nipples and down the ridge of his abdominals. 

Keith grunts, shifts a little, ruts his cock against nothing. Whines.

Lance chuckles, looks up to Shiro hovering over Keith’s shoulder. He pours more onto Keith, the sticky gooeyness slipping down the center of his chest. Lance urges it lower, circling his fingers around Keith’s navel, plays with the thatch of hair just underneath, rubbing it in and Keith growls, listing forward to press his forehead against Lance’s collarbone. His breathing has picked up, skin tingling everywhere Lance’s fingers touch. The hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up when Shiro kneels behind him, heat and a bulwark strength, as he eases Keith against him.

Lance leans over and licks Keith’s cock into his mouth, and if it weren’t for Shiro’s hand banded across his waist, Lance would have choked with how Keith jerked. 

He pulls at his restraints, the high clanging noise echoing around the bedroom as he tries to bury his fingers in Lance’s hair. Shiro chuckles in his ear, “No dice,” he says as he kisses under his fringe, hands cupping around his chest, tugging at his nipples. 

Lance pulls away and wipes the back of his mouth. Keith’s cock twitches as he takes in Lance’s swollen red lips just from a little sucking. 

He crawls the short distance between them, kisses Keith’s mouth and he opens his mouth, chases his taste on Lance’s tongue, groans as Shiro noses his way in-between them for a taste as well. Lance leans back, strokes at Keith’s cock a little. Shiro’s lifting the bottle again and the rest of the lube falls onto Lance’s chest and down his stomach, some of it dripping onto the tops of his thighs. 

Lance helps it along, swiping his hands over his body. It perfunctory, quick and loveless, but when he slides up against Keith, his breath is sweet and heavy against Keith’s cheek- chest heaving a little as he tries to grind against Keith. 

Shiro falls back, resting more against the headboard, his legs stretching out to bracket Keith’s own. Lance helps Keith ease his legs out from under himself, his torso held up by Shiro as they move. He bumps his knee against Lance’s jaw, almost gives Shiro a nosebleed with a headbutt, but when they’re all finally situated, Lance hikes up one of his long honey colored legs and straddles Keith. 

“Shiro?” Lance pants, already jerking his hips against Keith’s. 

“Yep,” and he’s fishing around for another bottle they had set out. He uncaps it, pours it over the space between them and everything turns to liquid heat as Lance’s cock and balls slide against his. 

“Fuck, Lance,” he groans, thrusting his hips. Shiro’s cock bumps against his hands buckled behind his back. He manages to catch at the shaft, squeezes it, plays with it as much as he can in his trussed up state. 

The wet sounds of them rubbing against each other filter through his heavy pants. Lance leans back on both of his hands between their thighs, his throat, chest and belly a long shimmering, sinuous line. He has more leverage this way, uses just his hips to rub against Keith, the hard line of his cock rutting right up against his. Keith grits his teeth, bites his lips, pulls at the cuffs against his back  _ clang clang clang _ , fighting against Shiro’s hold as Lance just uses him. Rubs all over him. 

Shiro’s hand comes around and strokes up and down his chest and neck, his palm spanning the width of his throat, squeezing for a moment and then letting go. Squeezing again. Letting go. 

“So indecent,” he says. “The two of you,” and he’s biting at the skin under Keith’s ear, sucking a deep bruise into his neck. His hands slides down and wraps his hand around both their cocks. Lance throws his head back, his hips stilling for a moment as he comes in thick ropes across Keith’s chest. His come slides down the slick wetness covering Keith’s skin. 

Lance sits up, his stomach muscles contracting attractively. His knees sink into the mattress on either side of them, and Keith’s cock nestles up against his cleft, the head catching at his rim, catching and missing, and he growls, frustrated. Keith tosses his head side to side against Shiro’s shoulder and the two of them nip and bite and kiss on his neck like starved beasts.

Lance shifts on top of him, and Keith’s cock is pressed between them, his length thrusting up against the thick hair under Lance’s navel. His soft cock is a comforting weight as Keith rolls his hips and its steadily getting harder. 

“Come on, Samurai. Get us messy,” Lance murmurs, hands on Keith’s shoulders to use him as leverage. “Dirty us up with your come,” and he’s leaning over Keith, fucking his tongue into Shiro’s mouth if the sound is anything to go by. “Get us all filthy and Shro will clean us up with his mouth.”

And that’s it, those are the magic words. It’s the trigger for Keith’s orgasm- hot and sticky, slip sliding down Lance’s chest and his both. 

Shiro groans, his hands gripping at Keith brutally as he picks him up and forces the two of them onto the bed. Lance lands with a soft _oof_ against the mattress and Keith grunts, the air being pushed out of him and Shiro presses his hand to the middle of Keith’s back against his bound up wrists. He holds them both down as he rocks his hips, his cock sliding between theirs, come and lube and sweat easing his way. 

Keith slides against Lance, his still too sensitive cock being rubbed everywhere. He cries out, buries his face into Lance’s neck, grits his teeth. Lance’s dick is fully hard, Shiro’s sliding against it and Keith’s both and god god- 

“Come again, Keith, come on,” Shiro grunts, his fingers digging in so harshly at his hip. “I feel it, you’re so wet, baby,” and Shiro’s hot come splatters between them. Keith moans. He bucks once, twice and his eyes squeeze shut with the force of his second orgasm, hard on the heels of his first. Lance fucks into the mess of it, groaning. 

Shiro’s fingers fiddle with the cuffs, the metal coming away with a soft clink. Keith’s arms are soft noodles and they fall around Lance limply. He wraps his arms around Keith, petting at his hair, running over his back. Kisses his face. Shiro rolls onto the side, the barrel of his chest heaving.

Lance squirms under him. “We’re going to have to shower or we’re gonna stick together for real,” he says, voice light and breathy.

“How romantic,” Keith quips, already gingerly separating them. Shiro laughs as he rolls towards them, hand coming down onto Keith’s lower back. His hand gropes there for a moment before Keith slaps it away.


	5. Oviposition, Creampie, Tights - James & Lance

Keith runs his hands up and down the strange soft skin of Jame’s legs, his claws threatening to come out and ruin the nice pair of black tights Lance had bought. He purrs, low in his throat as Lance ruts up behind him, the air smelling like sex and cinnamon and the smoldering heat off of a bonfire. 

Lance strokes at Keith's cock from behind, hand looking small and delicate as he pumps his length. His cock is bigger than usual tonight, and Lance had taken special care in stretching James out for it. Keith can see through the sheer material the end of the plug that’s in James and, well, Keith knows that it’s the biggest one they have for times like this.

James squirms in his hold and Keith growls, pushing his legs flush up to his chest. His breath leaves him in a heavy exhale and Keith chuckles, leans forward with all his weight, and presses his mouth against James’, the sharp points of his teeth catching at his lips. 

He leans back and takes in James’ red face, his red mouth, the haze in his eyes. Keith takes his legs and spreads them, the welcoming vee warm and humid against his. James' poor cock is trapped under such constricting conditions, and Keith takes mercy and rubs against it with the palm of his hand. James grunts, jerks, and Keith’s nail catches at the delicate fabric and makes a small tear.

Lance clicks his tongue against his teeth as he hooks his chin over Keith’s shoulder. “Aww, you ruined it,” he pouts, his hand leaving Keith’s cock to investigate the rip. It widens as James struggles, pants, rubs against nothing. Keith whines, and even though he knows he didn’t do anything bad, it feels like he did- displeasuring his mate. He turns his head and nuzzles his face into Lance cheek. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he slurs out, inhaling lungfuls of Lance’s sweaty scent. He can tell, just from this, that Lance isn’t upset, but it doesn't hurt to be sure. 

“It’s alright,” Lance assures him, “Here, look. Let’s do this,” and James lets out a startled cry as Lance worms two fingers into the hole and rips into it. 

His finger presses against the plug still inside, spins it around and James pants like he’s been running a marathon. “Ready, sweetheart?”

Keith doesn’t know who Lance is talking to, but he nods, and James nod and then the plug is coming to with an easy slide. 

Lance hums into Keith’s throat. “I left you a little present,” he says, and Keith watches, enraptured, as come slides out as well.

“Fuck,” and Keith’s leaning down, licking one long stripe from the cleft of James’ ass over his hole and up his balls. He bumps into Lance and the hot long line of his cock presses into the back of his thigh.

“God, you’re fucking dirty,” Lance says as he holds James’ legs up as Keith licks over his rim. James thrashes under him, and Keith growls, hands coming up to cup under his knees. 

“Please,” he begs. “Keith, fuck- he left me like this,” James explains and that explains why he’s so desperate. 

“Didn’t want to tire him out before the main show,” Lance chuckles. He lets one of James’ legs go and it falls over the curve of Keith’s shoulder. That freed up hand strokes down the length of Keith’s spine, rubs at his tailbone, then, lower. Lance’s finger slips inside of him easily, Keith’s heat facilitating natural slick. He makes a pleased sort of sound. “Oh, I can feel them,” he says as the backs of his knuckles twist around. “Nice and big. You think you can take them, Griffin?”

James grunts. “I’ve taken them before. More than you, actually,” he taunts, mouth turning up into a smirk. 

Lance chuckles. “Can’t win that argument,” he says good-naturedly.

James squeezes at Keith’s shoulder with one leg. “Please,” he asks again and Keith is more than willing enough. 

He rises up onto his knees, lines up his cock, waits for James’ needy nod. Pushes the head of his cock just inside. James wiggles a little, takes Keith’s cock just a little deeper and that’s all the go-ahead that he needs before he’s pressing in, James’ breathing turning heavy and even, body softening, relaxing around him. He pulls back once the widest part touches at James’ rim. Calls out to Lance who leans around him and spits over James’s stretched out hole, over Keith’s cock, Lance’s mouth kissing up and down his sides and to the back of James' leg, wherever he can reach.

“That’s it, sweetheart, easy now,” Lance murmurs.

And Keith still can’t tell who Lance is talking to but his heart is starting to race, the feeling starting to build in his body. “Lance, they’re coming. James, I need to,” and he’s biting on his lip, blood welling into his mouth. 

“I got you,” Lance croons, his fingers making quick work inside of him. They glide in and out, forcefully gentle, scissoring. 

“Inside,” Keith growls, “Get in me,” he says as stills inside of James. The first egg is already making its way up Keith’s shaft, the thick round of it stretching out the slit in his cock. Keith shudders and tries to hold back, James already throwing his head back and coming in small spurts across his belly. “Lance, hurry, please.”

And he’s there, sliding so easily in with one simple thrust. The head of his cock presses against Keith’s prostate and another egg slips from the pouch inside of him and travels out of his cock. Lance draws his hips back, thrusts back in, massaging out Keith’s eggs as he goes. James clutches onto the sheets like they were his only lifeline, sweat beading his brow and the muscles in his throat and chest cord tight as he hangs on. 

Keith falls onto him, whipping his hips and all of them cry out. Lance grabs at Keith’s hips and fucks him with quick and sure snaps, the angle changing, sharpening with Keith’s new prone position. He presses his mouth to James’, licking across his tongue and teeth, crying out as his body gets used. 

“Keith, fuck, your knot,” James moans into their moths. “Come on, fill me up. All the way,” he groans. His legs spread as wide as he can get them to go. Keith pushes up until he’s braced on his hands and Lance presses in deep, seats himself, as Keith works himself back and forth. 

James is wet, so fucking wet from the slick that helps ease the passage of his eggs, his hole so sloppy with it. One of James’ hand comes down and puts it low, against the soft bugle under his navel and Keith can feel how his eggs shift inside, how it causes James to clench up, relax, tense again- and Keith is shoving his knot past the tight ring of James’ hole, locking them in place. 

Lance takes it as his cue, puts one hand to Keith’s shoulder, another to his hip, and he’s fucking Keith harshly, nails digging in. He comes not soon after, the hot rush of him filling up Keith’s insides and his cock throbs against his walls. Lance’s lips come down and pepper against his shoulders, the high knob of his spine. Pushes his hair to the side and kisses at Keith’s nape. 

He slips out after a long bout of nuzzling at Keith’s neck and the splatter of his come hits the sheet and Keith’s calf. Lance pushes at Keith’s shoulder and he lays across James again, waits patiently as Lance’s fingers finish fiddling with his hole. Another plug gets settled there and Keith grunts. 

James grunts under him, shifting a little at Keith’s weight on top of him, and he rolls, brings James to lay across his chest as they wait for Keith’s knot to go down. Lance lays next to him, pets all up and down James’ back, across Keith’s collar bones. His eyes are already droopy.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, Lover Boy,” James says as he pats at Lance’s cheek. “There’s a long way to go, yet” and Lance blinks his blue eyes back awake. Gives a little moue. Keith smirks at him, leans over and tangles their mouths together.

Inside of James Keith can already feel his cock starting to stir again. He thrusts up once to test it and James lets out an interested gasp. Lance’s eyes burn with a renewed look. Long way to go indeed.


	6. Formal Wear, Mirror Sex - Allura & Lance

The dresser rattles as Keith holds onto Allura from behind. Her skin is smooth and hot, supple in his hands as he reaches up her front to slip a hand inside the low-cut vee of her dress. Her breast gives in his hand, moulds to it, the sharp peak of her nipple pressing into his palm. He rolls it between his fingers, pulls at it, and Allura grunts. His hand retreats, covers her abused tit over her dress. The fabric is silky, cool, compared to the rest of her as he holds the long length of it up over the dip in her back with his other hand.

She grunts as he slides in deep, gasps when he pulls out, moans sweetly as he pushes her up onto the balls of her feet housed inside pretty white heels that could probably kill someone.

Namely Lance, who's just fucking around and just playing with his hole back there and not contributing in this quick forray they've fallen into.

It's his fault, honestly, that they're here, like this. A simple _Hey, man, your tie is crooked_, caused his long fingers to brush up against Keith's throat, caused Keith to swallow. Caused Keith's collar to dip just enough to show a purpling bruise made by Allura not even an hour before.

Lance had sighed dreamily, leaned in, latched his mouth right beside her mark and started sucking, licking- biting.

Allura had found them, not even five minutes later, with Keith on his knees, her posh, good humored, _Really_, was the only indication that she'd entered the room. She'd strode over to them, pulled Keith up by the length of his crooked tie and kissed him, licked the taste of Lance's cock out of his mouth. She had giggled, turned around to brace her hands against the dresser and hiked up her dress, already bending at the waist.

She hadn't been wearing anything underneath and her bare pussy had spread a little as she widened her stance.

Keith had made short work of fingering her, two at first, then three just to be a shit, but she had just bitten down her moans, thrust her ass back into him and Keith had used her own wetness to lube up his cock. In he went, a nice slow slide, and both of them couldn't hold back their voices then.

And, well. Here they are.

Lance chuckles, taking his place behind Keith. The heat of him seeps through his clothes and into Keith's back. He immediately starts to sweat- at his brow, at his throat, the fringe at the nape of his neck. Lance buries his nose there, inhales. Keith slows the roll of his hips as Lance lines up his cock.

The rounded head pushes past the first ring of his hole, then the second, as Keith forces his muscles to relax. There’s an intense stretch and squeeze, and Lance had may have been fucking around with his hole but that doesn’t mean he was doing any sort of strenuous prep. It was just enough with the time that they have, but it’s fine. It’s good. Keith loves it like this.

Allura wet at his front, and Lance burning at his back.

His pants fall to his ankles and it must be a sight, the three of them; Lance and Allura both holding still as Keith jerks frantically. But they’re both beautiful, dark skinned and dressed to impress, with Keith a panting, sweaty mess between them.

Allura pushes herself up, and it changes the angle of Keith inside of her, spears her deeper, forces Lance deeper into him. He groans, holds onto her hips and tucks his face into the exposed skin of her neck, inhaling the smoky scent of her. Her pretty earrings jangle as he thrusts up.

Her manicured hand reaches up, fingers catching at his tie and winding it around her fist. Keith gets pulled into her, and she opens up to him like a flower, her pink lips parting for his tongue. She tastes a little like the fruity bubbly drink that’s been circling around and when he pulls back he can’t tell if her eyes are dilated from alcohol or from lust, probably a mix of both, but Keith knows he isn’t as Lance starts fucking him in earnest.

Allura gives his tie a sharp jerk around, her eyes meeting his and then lingering to the mirror in front of them. Keith flushes and shuts his eyes but she tugs sharply again, grunting. She gives him a stern look and glances at the mirror again, and Keith has no choice but to look, no choice but to see his own ruddy face, how his bangs stick to his forehead- to watch as her tits bounce in her dress as he whips his hips up into her.

Her throat is a long stretch of milk chocolate skin as she contorts herself to kiss at Lance over Keith’s shoulder.

Keith’s hand comes up, cups around her collarbones, presses her into him- trails down and pulls aside the strap of her dress and one round breast falls into his hand. Allura moans into Lance’s mouth, her soft insides twitching over Keith’s cock. She pushes down the twin strap and her other breast falls free. Her head falls onto his shoulder, her hand coming up to cover his and squeeze. She watches him watch her, and Keith belatedly realizes that Lance is watching the both of them over his other shoulder as well.

Keith doesn’t know where to look and this feeling of being watched by them is setting his blood to boil, hotter than it’s ever been.

Keith can’t stand it- can’t have them watch him anymore and he shoves at Allura, pushing at her, and she stumbles at little, gets awkwardly pressed into the dresser. She moans as she tries to find purchase, but Keith doesn’t let her, hand flying into her hair, fingers fisting into the intricate updo at the crown of her head. Her scalp is sweaty and its the first sign that Keith has found that she’s getting undone by their fucking.

He knows that she likes this, this rough treatment. For too long she’s been treated like the Princess, treated like she’s fragile. Keith has seen her fight. Seen her take the hit. She can take his brutal pace. She’s done it before.

Keith traps her against the edge of the dresser, and from the navel down, she’s pinned. Keith presses her face into the mirror and her breath immediately fogs up the glass, her hands coming up to brace herself against her reflection. The detritus on the dresser’s surface start to rattle and fall but Keith could care less. He’s solely focused on finishing, on Lance finishing, on making Allura finish all over his cock.

His eyes flick to Lance’s image in the mirror, how his attention is held by where he’s moving in and out of Keith. Looks to Allura whos eyes are squeezed shut, her brows knit, concentrating. He lets go of her hair and both of his hands go to her waist, pulling her back against him, keeping her where he wants. He watches the two of them in the mirror, waits for Lance’s telltale bite of his lip, waits for the high flush of blood on Allura’s cheeks. All of them signs that he can really lay into them and let go himself.

It’s Allura that breaks first, her sharp cry filling the air and the flutter of her cunt around him. He fucks her through it, hands holding her bucking hips as he eases in and out of her. She squeezes around him, tight- tighter, her body shifting shape for him, and Keith is coming, too, the heavy pull of his orgasm in his gut. Lance is the last to finish, the hot throb of his cock slamming deep. He falls against Keith’s back, presses his nose behind his ear, voice gravelly and dry as he pants.

Keith sighs as he slips from Allura, his cock wet from her pussy and his come both, but he pulls up his slacks and tucks himself away regardless. Lance busies himself tying off the condom. Allura readjusts her dress, but not before Lance gets a handful of his own and kisses her, hands going to her hair and messing it up even more. She growls, bites at his lips, pulls away with a fond moue set into her mouth. She pulls pins from her hair and the strands fall in a shimmering wave, the ends touching the small of her back. She shakes her head a little and her tresses move in a wave.

Lance comes in with a tube of lipstick, smearing it onto her mouth with practiced precision. She presses them together once, but it does absolutely nothing to hide the red flush of her cheeks or the bitten quality to her mouth.

She turns to him and smiles, clicks her tongue against her teeth. Her fingers come up and straighten his tie- the thing that started this mess. But Allura is perfunctory with her gestures, slips the knot of his tie in place, lays it flat and smoothes it down. She pecks Lance and Keith chastely before sashaying back out.

They have official business to return to.


	7. Fucking Machine, Praise kink - Shiro

Shiro brushes back the heavy fall of Keith’s bangs as it plasters to his forehead. He’s strapped down against a padded table, the pleather sticky and slippery in turns as he sweats bullets as this machine slowly fucks him. Shiro had set the machine to slow, the constant droning whine as the gears worked filled the space around them. 

His arms are tucked behind him horizontally, his thighs forced apart by nylons straps that hook underneath the table.

Shiro leans down and kisses him, tongue slipping into Keith’s open gasping mouth. When he pulls back, he gazes into Keith’s eyes, thumb stroking against the crest of Keith’s cheek. “You look like you’re ready,” he says. In his other hand, his thumb moves and the speed of the machine picks up, fucking Keith faster.

“Ah! Ah! Shiro!” and he trashes a little against the tabletop. He pulls at his bound arms, at his bound legs, but nothing gives, and he’s trapped like this, completely spread and at Shiro’s mercy. 

Shiro shushes him kindly, leaning down again and kissing him, placating Keith with his lips and tongue. “Just a little more,” he murmurs, thumb rolling over the dial that control the speed. The dildo attached to the end of the machine fucks into him faster, spearing deeper, and Keith throws his head back into the pillow. “Good boy, good boy, you’re doing so well,” Shiro tells him, petting at his face, sliding his fingers into Keith’s mouth. 

Shiro’s hand slips free, wet with his saliva and traces down his chest, tweaks a nipple along the way. His fingers play over the ridge of his abdominals, the tips circling around the hollow of his navel. Shiro chuckles when his fingers rake through the coarse hair under Keith’s belly button, a little flakey from the slow leak of pre-come out of the tip of his cock as they played. His hand wraps around Keith’s erection, strokes it once, reaches lower and cups his balls. Splits his fingers to feel around where the toy is fucking him at a brutal place.

“Ye-yellow, Shiro, I’m gonna- I might,” Keith pants, fisting his hands, forcing his nails into his palm to stave off his orgasm. He clenches his jaw, his eyes- thinks of the grossest thing he can imagine to back himself down from the edge.

The machine slows, slows, comes to a stop and Keith whines, groans, tosses his head side to side as he comes back to himself.

Shiro’s peppering kisses across his forehead and cheeks, whispering against his skin, “You did so well. You held out for a long time. That’s my good boy,” he says. Shiro pulls back, strokes Keith’s hair out of his face. “And you know what this means? You get rewarded,” he tells him. 

He climbs up onto the table to straddle Keith’s hips, rubs his cock against Keith’s. “Do you feel this? What you’ve done to me? You did this,” he says as he takes Keith’s cock in his hand, squeezes it between his cheeks. The head of Keith’s cock catches against the rim, once, twice. Shiro growls a little, lays the controller on Keith’s chest to be able to reach back and use both hands. He goes in easier this time, breaching into Shiro’s soft space, hot and wet, tight. “So good for me,” he says as he takes more and more of Keith’s cock.

Keith moans, long and drawn out as Shiro’s full weight bears down against him. The dildo still inside, presses sweetly against his walls, against his prostate and Keith forces himself away from his body to keep himself from coming. 

“Shiro, I’m close- don’t,” and he bites down on his lip, hard enough to break skin and the taste of salty copper coats his tongue. 

Shiro stills his rolling hips, bottoms Keith out, and they rest like that for a moment. Keith breathes deeply, trying to calm himself down. It could be minutes, seconds, hours- an eternity, but when Shiro starts moving again, he’s quickly ushered back up to the precipice. 

“I’ll give you something nice if you hold on,” Shiro croons, gently rocking against Keith, keeping it shallow. He leans over and brace his hands over Keith’s shoulders. He teases the head of Keith’s cock with his fluttering rim, takes him all the way, does it again and Keith doesn’t know if he can. 

“You can,” Shiro tells him. “I believe in you,” he says.

Keith nods his head frantically. He can. He can do it. He’ll do it for Shiro.

“Good,” Shiro says, chuckle falling out from behind his lips. 

He picks up the remote.

Dials up the hum of the machine.

And it slowly starts to fuck Keith while Shiro fucks himself on Keith’s cock.

Keith pulls again against his bonds, his muscles straining, wanting to get his hands all over Shiro, to hold the man to him. But he can’t. It’s so frustratingly good-

“That’s it, you look so hot, so desperate,” and Shiro grinds in his lap. “You’re going to be good and listen, aren’t you? You’ve never disappointed me before,” and christ, he’s stroking at his cock, his wide hand wrapping around the shaft and jerking off slowly, as slow as the machine is fucking him. 

“Yes! Shiro- fuck, you feel good,” Keith pants, eyes locked onto the up and down motion of Shiro’s twisting wrist. “Use me up, I’m- I’m-” he bites his tongue when Shiro gives one viscious shove of his hips into his fist and he’s coming all over Keith’s chest, the hot splatter of it catching against his chin and nipples. 

Shiro grunts, a heavy sigh passing through his mouth as he finishes. Keith devours the sight of his stretched taut throat, his peaked nipples, the cute flush his pelvis takes on when he’s finished coming. Shiro’s head lols to look down at Keith. 

He reaches down and unbuckles the strap around Keith’s chest and his arms loosen. He tugs at the strap and Keith’s arm slither out from behind his back and Shiro unlatches those as well. He massages at Keith’s wrists, brings them up to his mouth to kiss. Puts them onto his hips, presses them into the soft give of his body to signal for Keith to wait. Shiro reaches back and unsnaps one buckle, then the other, and Keith’s legs draw up immediately, muscles crying in relief from the strain. 

“Put your feet up,” Shiro tells him. “And move down a little,” one more command, and god god, Keith knows where this is going. He does as he’s told, bracing his feet against the tabletop, scooting a little, closer towards-

Shiro’s thumb dials up the controller and the dildo fucking up into him picks up speed one last time. Shiro rolls his hips and all Keith can do is hold on for dear life-

“Now,” Shiro tells him, voice gravelly. 

Keith’s nails dig into Shiro’s hips, slams up as much as he can with the machine fucking him so harshly…

"Shiro Shiro nnng!" And he's throbbing deep, deeper, the toy slipping from him and he has free range of movement now.

Shiro chuckles, gasps, manages to turn the machine off. He braces his thighs and let's Keith spill into him. He coaxes Keith through it, soft words and touches. Whispered praise so good, you're so good for me, you did well, Keith Keith Keith I'm proud of you-

Keith jerks one last time, blissed out beyond words. He pulls Shiro to him, kisses his cheeks and lips and jaw, nuzzles into his throat. Shiro pets back his hair, strokes down his arms and chest, the quiet rumbling of his words, echoing in Keith's ears.


End file.
